


Lagrangian Point Five

by nerdCrawfish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Is like set after MTMTE/Lost Light but I also just don't care abt canon, OC POV, OC heavy story, POV Alternating, Post-Cybertronian Civil War, Rodimus POV, mechpreg is canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdCrawfish/pseuds/nerdCrawfish
Summary: It's been years after the War, it's been years since Rodimus captained--well... Co-captained the Lost Light. Most of the people in his life have settled down.Fuck, after all, most of the people he deals with now his god damn past crewmate's kids??Fuck he's old.***Don't expect much from this. It's been like 5 years of maladaptive daydreaming this story but I don't have the energy to write the entire thing rn. I just don't want it sitting in my docs rn.
Relationships: implied drift | deadlock / ratchet, implied megatron/ minimus ambus, implied starscream/deadlock | drift
Kudos: 3





	Lagrangian Point Five

**Author's Note:**

> background information:
> 
> Mechpreg is active and it is rampant as fuck in this story. Transformers have kids! And most of the characters are ocs from ships.
> 
> Some slight spoilers below:vvv
> 
> Perihelion - is about Rodimus' age actually, just a bit younger, but he's Starscream and Deadlock's kid from a one off.
> 
> Mesos Ambus - Is pretty fucking young tbh. I think she's like idk 75 years old maybe? She's Megatron and Minimus Ambus' 1st kid. Yeah megs is still kicking. This is a happy au.
> 
> lot of ppl are still kicking. La la i didn't read the rest of lost light yet LA LA I CAN"T HEAR YOU
> 
> overall, this is OC heavy content.
> 
> Don't like don't read.

Rodimus, and everyone else for the matter, snapped their attention to the doors that slammed open. In walked a small bot--clearly car frame but also had seeker-like wings? Rodimus raised a brow at that. Said bot was flanked by two battle-grade seekers in purples, blues, and grays--and a large black and white bot with a bright, blue visor. Clearly a tank of some sort. The three all had weapons holstered to hips or backs and looked severe and serious.

But those three weren’t close to the haughty, pretentious air that the seeker/car hybrid--clearly the leader--held with every particle of their being. Their expression was flat, seemingly emotionless but anyone could read the disdain and disgust they had no intention in hiding. It was seen in the slight squint of their yellow optics, the minute curl of their pressed lips, the way their optic scoured over each bot sitting in the room from over the high tilt of their nose.

The lot were clearly the Deception Prisoners Of War Command half of this vessel.

And Rodimus didn’t need to see their muted decepticon badges with a score across the face that denoted the “prisoner of war” status that the government had going on.

See, Rodimus wasn’t too familiar with what has been going on--especially with what was being done with the POWS--as it is. He’s heard some chatter about prison ships out on the far reaches of the galaxy where they’ve instilled systems for them to work and earn statuses as honorary “rehabilitated” citizens. Upon such completion of these little courses and acquisition of said designation--they can leave these ships and come back to Cybetron and her colonies to live their lives however they see fit. Unless they do some crimes and get sent right back.

Drift had talked about it in passing one time when he and Ratchet had invited Rodimus over to celebrate a holiday at their house--after they had put the sparklings to bed. It had been nice, really--it all had been really nice. To be surrounded by their three sparklings--the clearly joyous and fun air of a family. Of being at peace, finally.

Kind of makes him regret staying in the military after all of these years, he thought with a mental sigh.

But back to the situation at hand. See, since Rodimus has been out of the loop for such affairs--being _relegated_ to a celebrity to give “so awe-inspiring” speech to little sparklings at schools does that--so he really should be paying the fuck attention.

“Mesos Ambus.” the seeker-car hybrid spoke. Their voice sounded like two voice boxes colliding together--the sounds both grating against but also weaving together. It was quite odd and over his several thousands of years--Rodimus doesn’t really recall ever hearing such an odd sound.

Then again--when most of the bots you’ve heard were voicing screams of pain or calls of arms--when you were part of two factions fighting to annihilate each other from existence for millennia--things like that can get pushed to the back unnoticed-- because it’s unimportant. Beyond useless.

Mesos Ambus gave the newly arrived group’s head a nod of acknowledgement. It wasn’t uncomfortable--not tense or stiff, Rodimus noted. It was like the ones that one gives to a colleague--a friend even. And that had Rodimus snapping his head back between the two mechs.

_Were they friends????_

“Perihelion.” she voiced, “It’s nice to see you as always. I apologize for pulling you from your tasks--I know how managing your side can be a full time and tiring endeavor.”

The seeker-car-- _Perihelion_ , Rodimus noted--gave Mesos a smile but it looked more like a sneer, as they took a seat at the far end of the table. The other three flocking around the high chair like bodyguards--probably because they were, well, _bodyguards_. "Yes. It tends to be when one is babysitting a flock of gun-crazed sparklings.” they mused with a flick of their sharp nailed servos in a pretentious but also honestly regal and poised flare. The bot leaned their weight onto an armrest as they sat back and made themselves comfortable. “So, I’m guessing the dear, ol’ confused bot with the gaudy flame paint is what you called me here for.”

And Rodimus was then the subject of those sneering, calculating yellow optics. The glowing yellow glare felt like lasers trying to take him apart piece by piece-- _trying to dissect him_. It was freaky and honestly a little more than uncomfortable.

It really reminded him of someone, he thought with a buzz crawling through his system, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on _who_.

Now, Rodimus wasn’t a genius, he wasn’t… _the best_ when it came to reading rooms and dealing with politics and all of that verbal warfare jazz as he liked to call it. This wasn’t something he was ever good at--he knows. He can do speeches fine, he can get troops up and moving. Do all of that slag--but this? This peace-time style of fighting? That will always be foreign.

It’s why he never made it into a high command position during the war-- _and he was more than fine with that._

Wait, that bastard called his paint job gaudy!

Rodimus squinted right back at the bastard with a pissed pout.

Perihelion’s face suddenly morphed into slight confusion. Denoted with a questioning raise of an optic ridge and a slight gaping of his mouth. And--wait… Were those ear finials? Like on race-car bots? Oh yeah, they definitely were and they had twitched ever so slightly. It’s what made Rodimus notice them in the first place. His blue optics tracked over the white pointed finials stretching gracefully from the white helm that looked suspiciously like.. Deadlock’s?

...

_Wait._

Now it was Rodimus’s turn to look confused. But unlike the bot who he was having a staredown with--it wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t poised or artfully slight or masterfully hidden. It was a full morphing of his metal features into two wide open optics, long gone to orbit optic ridges, and a fully dropped mouth in a twisting combination of wholly apparent horror and realization. And upon seeing this transformation, the other bot sat back further and had the _audacity_ to look _pleased_ at Rodimus’s very dumb looking expression.

Rodimus has decidedly put this _Perihelion_ on his Hate This Slagging Arse list.

  


Mesos Ambus watched the two’s exchange of glares with skyward optics and a muted sigh through her nose. She should have figured this was how this meeting was going to go. She knew Perihelion could be… _finicky_. Rude. Even down right a _royal bitch_ at times--not that you’d ever hear Mesos Ambus say that.

And she was well versed and _thoroughly_ oriented on the experience that was _Working With Rodimus_ from both of her fathers. An education begotten via tales and recollections told as if they were horror stories.

Mesos Ambus sighed quietly to herself again as she mentally got prepared to interrupt this sparklingish glaring contest. She was about to loudly clear her throat and interrupt the two when she spotted Drok’s glee filled expression snapping between the two mechs as he slowly raised a datapad to “stealthily” take a picture or recording. Mesos made sure to nip that disaster in the bud by sending a glare directed at them. They quickly felt the heat of two red optics and just as “stealthily” put the datapad away with an appeasing embarrassed smile sent Mesos’s way. To which she only deepened her glare at. She wasn’t a fool, there was no way Drok was even remotely embarrassed or guilt ridden.

Turning her attention back to the table at large, she finally loudly cleared her throat drawing all optics to her.

“Indeed. Perihelion, this is Rodimus. He is going to be something of a mentor to me while I take the ropes of this command--as it is my first.”

“Oh? And only 4 months into your take of command?” Perihelion didn’t need to voice his actual assessment of the statement or situation, Mesos already understood his underlying meaning. “I see the Autobot’s speedy logistics is at its finest, per usual.” he sneered, sending an optic flick of disgust at Rodimus.

Who naturally puffed up at the insult. “And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Oh dear.” Perihelion put on an exaggerated look of horror and concern and even brought a hand to delicate lay on his chest. “And he’s supposed to be your mentor?”

Mesos Ambus brought a hand up to cover her stifled laughter and sigh of despair.

Oh was this going to be such a slag-show of a post.

**Author's Note:**

> anyways, I literally have daydreamed abt this story for easily 5 years. it's gone through massive overhauls, characters have been renamed, tweaked, scrapped, etc.
> 
> and idk if i'll ever fully write this story out. This is kind of a very personal thing and I've spent a while debating even attempting to writing it or just keeping it to myself for eternity.
> 
> anyways. peace. If i ever type out other chapters, i'll add them here. It won't be liner btw. I'll just smack the chapters before or after this one.
> 
> Wherever it should actually fit.
> 
> so yeah, finger guns, coolio


End file.
